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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24309601">As the Spirits Guide Us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons'>27dragons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>27dragons' Tony Stark Bingo [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Prehistoric, Coming of Age, Frottage, M/M, Running Away, Sex, Sharing a Meal, Spirit Animals, totem spirits</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:27:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24309601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Clan of the Hydra value’s Bucky’s skill as a flintknapper but despises him for being a crippled outsider. The Clanchief, in particular, seems to enjoy watching Bucky suffer. Bucky dreams of escaping, of finding a home with a new Clan, one which will treat him kindly.</p><p>A talented maker and only child of the Keeper of the Way, Tony has only to complete this last rite before he can fully assume his place as an adult of the Star Clan. On this journey, the spirit-talker assures him, the spirits will bring him to meet his destined mate. Tony is pretty sure the selection of his mate has less to do with the spirits than with the machinations of his mother and the clan chief.</p><p>Little do either of them know what the spirits have in store.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>27dragons' Tony Stark Bingo [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1270892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, StarkBucksBingo2020, Tony Stark Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. TSB Adopted - AU: Caveman</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story fills 2 squares for the Tony Stark Bingo, 2 squares for the StarkBucks Bingo, and 2 squares for the Bucky Barnes Bingo:<br/>Chapter 1 - TSB (Adopted) AU: Caveman<br/>Chapter 2 - TSB T1: Cat!Tony / SBB I5: Stargazing<br/>Chapter 3 - BBB K1: Poison<br/>Chapter 4 - BBB K2: Dark / SBB O2: Always</p><p>Yeah, I was multitasking like a BOSS on this one.</p><p>For bingo roundup crews -- the copy/paste-friendly template is on my tumblr post, <a href="https://27dragons.tumblr.com/post/618757349276008448/">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The second time Bucky tried to leave the Clan of the Hydra, Ahlek the Clanchief tied Bucky to a stake in the middle of the camp with neither food nor water, and given the rest of the Clan permission to punish him however they saw fit.</p><p>The hunter-warriors, in particular, were vicious in their displeasure. Brock led the way, of course, eternally bitter over the rivalry of their youth, before Bucky had lost his arm and was forced to trade the wielding of spears for the making of them.</p><p>Ahlek didn’t participate in Bucky’s punishment, but he’d watched with glittering eyes and never said a word to gentle their hands.</p><p>Bucky didn’t remember much of his early childhood, before the Clan of the Hydra had overrun the clan of his mother, but he remembered those same eyes, beautiful as sunlight on ice and just as cold as he’d been dragged out of her arms. Those eyes had borne witness to a thousand slights and humiliations in Bucky’s seasons with the Clan of the Hydra; Bucky knew better than to expect anything like kindness from them.</p><p>Bucky lasted three days on the stake before falling into the dirt to grovel at Ahlek’s feet and beg for mercy, more willing -- barely -- to accept Ahlek’s foot on his neck than death.</p><p>Outwardly cowed, the incident only strengthened his internal resolve to leave.</p><p>Dangerous as it was to travel alone, it couldn’t be worse than living under the Clanchief’s contempt.</p><p>So he planned carefully and secretly, saving off part of each meal to hide in a hollowed stump he’d found, wrapped in leaves and hide to protect it from insects and animals. He lucked onto a hollowed gourd in the midden-pile. It was cracked on one side so it no longer held water, but he painstakingly mended it as best he could with sap and rawhide that pulled tight as it dried. It wasn’t an ideal vessel -- the repair was only effective to the halfway point before the crack was too big to close -- but it was better than nothing.</p><p>He hid away a good flintknapping stone and several large shards that should last him for some time. A hide-scraper. Several scraps of hide that he’d claimed to repair his shoes.</p><p>And then he waited for a sign from the spirits.</p><p>He kept his head down, performed his assigned tasks well and without complaint, resignedly endured Ahlek’s smugness and the bullying of the hunter-warriors.</p><p>Finally, after a winter Bucky wasn’t certain he would survive, it came. Brock returned from a spring hunt to report that he’d seen the footprints of wolves in the woods nearby. The wolf was Bucky’s totem spirit -- he knew that the moment was approaching. That night, a storm lashed at the trees until they bent nearly to the ground, dropping pellets of hail as large as a man’s fist, chasing them all away from the camp and into the shelter of the caves.</p><p>Bucky waited yet longer, as the clan huddled together for warmth under their furs, the children tucked next to their mothers for protection. He meekly took his place at the edge of the group, nearest the cave’s mouth, where the force of the storm blew the rain in to spatter his shoulders and leach the warmth from his skin. He waited as they settled, sleep stealing over each of them in turn.</p><p>When he was certain there were none left awake, he tucked his fur up against the body next to his and rolled away. He paused to be sure no one would waken from the movement, and then he rose and slipped away.</p><p>He collected his hidden treasures and darted from tree to tree, inadequate shelter from the raging storm. As soon as he was beyond the boundaries of the camp, he broke into a run and didn’t stop until he reached the river. </p><p>It would be some time before Ahlek realized he had left again -- with luck, not until morning’s light. But he would need every span of that lead if the Clanchief decided to send the hunters after him, to bring him back again.</p><p>He could not go back again. He <em>would</em> not.</p><p>He reached the river just as the storm broke, letting the early-morning sun shine through the clouds to show the forest in all its verdant glory. Bucky stopped finally, shivering and panting, watching for signs of pursuit. Instead, a wolf paced out of the trees and stopped, staring at Bucky, its head held regally high. It was white as snow, except for one foreleg that was as black as char. The <em>left</em> foreleg, Bucky noticed, an echo of his own missing arm.</p><p>No ordinary wolf, surely, but his own totem spirit, come to bless the journey.</p><p>“Thank you, brother,” Bucky whispered. He reached into his bundle of precious stores and withdrew a handful of dried meat, all he had been able to sneak away. He laid it carefully on a rock beside the river for the wolf, and then waded into the water.</p><p>He swam out to the center of the river and let the current carry him downstream, past the familiar shores and into unknown territory. The river was fast. By late afternoon, Bucky spotted unfamiliar bushes on the banks of the river, trees with strange shapes beyond them, and he was certain he’d gone far enough. However much Ahlek enjoyed having Bucky there to bear the brunt of the Clan’s vicious impulses, the Clanchief wouldn’t risk valuable hunter-warriors on such a wide-ranging search.</p><p>Bucky swam for the opposite shore. It was hard to win free of the current’s relentless rush, and he was tired from keeping himself afloat for the whole day, after a night of running through the forest in the freezing rain instead of sleeping, safe and mostly warm, in the Clan’s cave.</p><p>But finally, he made it, clambering ashore ungracefully, half-crawling onto the narrow, sandy bank.</p><p>The sun was slanting down toward the mountains, and he would need to find shelter for the night. Who knew what creatures prowled the night, here?</p><p>Bucky knelt on the sand to take stock of his surroundings, and was evaluating his options when exhaustion overtook him and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. TSB T1 - Cat!Tony / SBB I5 - Stargazing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s time,” Tony’s mother said gently.</p>
<p>Tony grunted and kept working. The clan needed a new hide-stretching frame now that the winter was over and the hunters were expanding their range with the warmer weather. He finished carving a notch into the wood and reached for a strip of hide to bind the pieces together.</p>
<p>“Tony. He’s waiting.”</p>
<p>The spirit-talker could wait until the moon fell into the sea for all Tony cared, but he wasn’t so foolish as to say it aloud. He sighed a little and set the frame aside. He scooped up a handful of water, drinking a bit and pouring the rest over his head. The spirit-talker’s tent would be stifling, even with the brisk chill of the new spring.</p>
<p>He stood before the entrance to the spirit-talker’s tent for a long moment, readying himself. He was a trueborn child of the Star Clan, the only child of the Keeper of the Way and he was, as of the new moon, a man grown, lacking only this final ritual. He had no reason to be nervous. The spirit-talker was only one old man.</p>
<p>He only had to finish this rite to be able to take his place at the council fires, to speak to the needs of the clan that only he, its most talented maker, could provide.</p>
<p>He pushed aside the hide flap and ducked into the spirit-talker’s tent. “Yinsen?”</p>
<p>“Tony. Come and sit.” Yinsen waved to the space next to him, right beside the spirit fire.</p>
<p>Tony folded himself down, curling his arms around his knees. Almost immediately, the smoke from the fire got in his eyes, making them burn and itch, and by the time he’d taken three breaths, he was already feeling dizzy.</p>
<p>“That’s right,” Yinsen said, coaxing. “Just relax and let me see your spirit.”</p>
<p>“Can you really see my spirit?” Tony wondered.</p>
<p>“You’ve always been skeptical,” Yinsen chided gently. “The spirits are all around us.”</p>
<p>“Then why can’t I see them?”</p>
<p>Yinsen reached for a pot and cradled it between his knees. “You cannot see the wind, either. Do you doubt its existence?”</p>
<p>“I can see the wind pushing on things as it passes,” Tony pointed out. “I can feel it against my skin.”</p>
<p>“You can see and feel the effects of the spirits, too,” Yinsen said, “if you know how.” He scooped some of the sacred mud out of the pot and put it on a broad leaf. “Give me your hand.” He took Tony’s hand firmly and jabbed a thorn into the tip of Tony’s thumb.</p>
<p>“Ow!”</p>
<p>Yinsen huffed and squeezed several drops from Tony’s thumb onto the mud on the leaf. “You were hurt worse than that while mending your mother’s tent last week.”</p>
<p>“I said ow then, too.” Tony watched his blood drip onto the mud. It seemed very bright in the flickering firelight. When Yinsen released his hand he stuck his thumb in his mouth to soothe the sting and watched as the spirit-talker stirred Tony’s blood into the sacred mud.</p>
<p>“Close your eyes.” Yinsen dragged his thumb through the mixture and painted it across Tony’s cheek.</p>
<p>Tony let his eyes fall closed. He tried to be still, but the smoke made him feel like he was swaying. He didn’t try to fight it; Yinsen would tell him if he was moving too much.</p>
<p>It was kind of soothing, actually, to just sit and not have to be doing anything. Yinsen hummed a little prayer-chant as he worked, painting Tony’s face and shoulders with sacred designs, and the sound of it echoed in Tony’s head, the smoke giving everything a dreamy cast.</p>
<p>When Yinsen stopped, he put his hands on Tony’s shoulders.</p>
<p>Tony opened his eyes, and it almost seemed he could see... something, looming over Yinsen. A shadow, protecting the spirit-talker, with wide wings spread and fiery coals for eyes.</p>
<p>“Listen now,” Yinsen said, and his voice burrowed into Tony’s ears, made Tony’s chest rumble like the feel of distant thunder. “You will go back to your mother’s tent and prepare for a journey. You must not speak to any of the clan once you have left my tent. Gather your things, and then go.”</p>
<p>“Where?”</p>
<p>“Travel toward the rising sun until you reach the mighty river.”</p>
<p>The mighty river, that was two days’ journey, more or less. When summer came and the stream’s flow grew miserly and sluggish, the Star Clan would move camp to its banks. The roots of the reeds that grew by the river were sweet, roasted with fish fresh-caught.</p>
<p>Tony had never gone so far on his own before, but he was confident he could do it. “What then?”</p>
<p>“The spirits will guide you, Tony. Listen to them.”</p>
<p>Tony bit his lip. “I don’t know how,” he reminded Yinsen.</p>
<p>“They will make themselves known,” Yinsen promised. “The mate that the spirits have chosen will find you.”</p>
<p>Tony grunted. The mate that his <em>mother</em> had chosen for him, more likely. Or the clan chief, if he had decided to take notice. Tony would leave today, and in the morning, Yinsen would summon the one who had been chosen for Tony and send them on a similar journey, no doubt. </p>
<p>“Skeptical,” Yinsen accused again, though it sounded almost fond. “Trust in the spirits, Tony. You are nearly a man, now. Children believe their mothers and the elders are all-powerful, but an adult knows there are things in this world bigger than we can explain with our own eyes and hands.”</p>
<p>Yinsen touched the top of Tony’s head in benediction. “Go now. And remember - you must not speak until you have bathed in the waters of the mighty river.”</p>
<p>“I will remember,” Tony said.</p>
<p>There was skepticism, and there was foolishness, and Tony did not quite dare cross the line between the two to defy the spirit-talker’s instructions.</p>
<p>He returned to his mother’s tent and gathered his things -- a good digging-stick, a spear, a length of braided-vine rope, and a pair of water-gourds. He draped a good fur over his shoulders to protect himself from the chill night air.</p>
<p>His mother watched as he tied his hair back with a strip of hide cord. She knew better than to speak to him, but she stopped him as he was leaving and pressed her hand to the back of his neck, careful not to smudge Yinsen’s markings.</p>
<p>Tony nodded to her, then carefully sidestepped her and strode out of the tent. Out of the camp and into the forest, heading toward the mighty river.</p>
<p>Late in the afternoon, with the sun at his back and the warmth of the day rapidly fading, Tony stopped at a pool to refill his gourds and hesitated as he bent over the water with its deep-running current.</p>
<p>The face looking back at him from the water was strange, features masked with the spirit-marks. They made him look different, not quite human. Feral. <em>Feline</em>.</p>
<p>Tony stared at the reflection for a long moment, feeling his heart race in his chest. When he finally looked up, scanning his surroundings, the sun had dropped another span, dappling the forest with shadows and long, golden spears of light. His eyes followed the path of one as it shimmered across the water, bumped over a fallen tree, skirted the edge of large rock, and came to a point--</p>
<p>--at the feet of a panther.</p>
<p>She regarded him with calm eyes that were the same golden shade as the sunbeams.</p>
<p>
  <em>You can see the effects of the spirits, too, if you know how.</em>
</p>
<p>Had she been sent by the spirits? The way she watched him, expectant and unalarmed, made it seem folly to deny. He opened his mouth to greet her and only at the last moment remembered Yinsen’s injunction that he not speak. Instead he touched his fingers to his lips and then the center of his chest, and then gestured wide -- a hunter’s gesture that meant, <em>You lead; I will follow</em>.</p>
<p>The panther’s left ear flicked, and she turned and walked away.</p>
<p>Tony swallowed a curse and scrambled to catch up his gourds and follow. By the time Tony had clambered across the stream, she was all but invisible. He hurried to catch up. The panther did not look back. She did not speed up or slow down, either; simply continued at her own, unhurried pace.</p>
<p>It was fully night when she stopped, and Tony found himself in the center of a fairly wide clearing. There was a lightning-blasted tree trunk in the center of it, big enough that it would have taken Tony and two of his clansmen to put their arms around it. At maybe twice Tony’s height, it was broken off, the edges charred.</p>
<p>The stars shone overhead, vast and glittering, and Tony stared up at them in wonder.</p>
<p>When the Maker had shaped the land out of clay and stone, as Tony’s mother told the tale, it had been perfect and smooth and flat. Pleased with her work, she set it under the sun to harden. But one of her children stepped on it, leaving a great dent that filled with water and became the sea, many days’ travel to the west and south. And then another dragged his fishing spear across it, carving the mighty rivers into the clay. A third dropped her cowrie-shell necklace on it, and the shells transformed into the mountains. The Maker, cross with her children’s carelessness, upended a basket over the world to keep them away from it. Each day, when the children had gone out from camp to hunt and fish and gather fuel, she took the basket away to let the land bake under the sun, but when they returned, she put the basket back over it, and the people who lived on the land could no longer see the sun, only glints of its light shining through the tiny gaps in the basket’s weave.</p>
<p>Tony had always liked watching the stars, was reassured by their sameness, the predictable paths they took as they traveled through the sky. He stared up at them for a long while, greeting his favorite clusters like old friends.</p>
<p> When he looked down again, the panther was gone, her mission apparently complete.</p>
<p>Tony closed his eyes and hoped the spirits would accept his silent thanks, and then examined his surroundings. There was grass under his feet and swishing around his calves, cool and soft. It was a little frightening to be out in the open at night, and alone, easy prey for some night-walking predator. Carefully, Tony approached the ruined tree. Up close, it seemed sturdy, not likely to fall over, and he didn’t see any burrows or other indicators that anything bigger than a rabbit was living in it. He sat with the tree at his back, facing so the rising sun would wake him, and let himself doze.</p>
<p>In the morning, he would resume his journey to the mighty river, and see what else the spirits had in store for him.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. BBB K1 - Poison</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bucky woke with a start and the sudden certainty that he was being watched. He scrambled into a crouch, groping for anything he could use to defend himself even as he scanned the area.</p>
<p>It was late into the morning; Bucky didn’t think he’d ever slept so much at once except when he was healing from the injury that took his arm. He was lucky that a bear or great-cat hadn’t found him.</p>
<p>His gaze landed on a man a stone’s throw away, coming out of the forest. </p>
<p>The man stopped when he realized Bucky had seen him, and his head tipped curiously. His face and chest were painted with dark red-brown stripes that made him look vaguely feline, and he carried a hide bag over his shoulder. A faring, then, or a spirit-journey.</p>
<p>It was no one that Bucky recognized, not one of Hydra’s hunter-warriors come to drag him back to face Ahlek’s wrath and scorn. Bucky relaxed, just a bit.</p>
<p>That didn’t mean the man wouldn’t steal Bucky’s meager supplies. Bucky scooped up his things and backed away.</p>
<p>The man’s hands lifted, showing the fire-hardened spear he held. Deliberately, he pointed it away from Bucky, holding it underhanded and low, which would make it hard to throw quickly. A gesture of peace, probably.</p>
<p>Bucky didn’t relax his stance as the man approached, though he couldn’t help but notice that the man was beautiful, with dark, curly hair and wide eyes of honey-brown, strong, capable arms and chest over a slender waist.</p>
<p>The man watched Bucky just as warily until he’d reached the very edge of the river, then turned to survey the water. He dropped the fur from his shoulders and waded in until the water was swirling around his knees, then turned his spear and put the point of it in the water as well.</p>
<p>And then didn’t move.</p>
<p>Bucky watched for almost a full hand before venturing a few steps closer, curious. “What are you--”</p>
<p>The man lifted a hand sharply, keeping his eyes fixed on the water.</p>
<p>Another half-hand passed. Bucky’s own shoulders ached from just watching the way the man stood, so still, spear hovering over some unknown point.</p>
<p>When he moved, it was almost too fast to track, a lightning-quick thrust.</p>
<p>“Ha!” the man barked triumphantly, and Bucky realized it was the first time he’d made a sound. He glanced around, almost guiltily, and then tossed the spear onto the riverbank, not one but <em>two</em> fish flopping on its point.</p>
<p>The man dropped to his knees in the water and began scooping up handfuls of water, scrubbing the markings from his face and chest. Bucky could only watch helplessly, aware of a sudden and intense desire to taste the water as it rolled down the man’s back.</p>
<p>When the man stood and turned back toward the bank, Bucky jerked his gaze away guiltily.</p>
<p>“Thank the mothers, that’s done,” the man said. “Who are you?”</p>
<p>Bucky looked around, startled. “Me?”</p>
<p>“I’m not asking the fish for their names.”</p>
<p>“I, uh. Bucky. My name’s Bucky.”</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen you before.” It didn’t come out accusingly, not quite, but it was more than idle observation.</p>
<p>“I came from upriver,” Bucky said, pointing. “From the Clan of the Hydra.”</p>
<p>“That name, I’ve heard,” the man allowed. “My clan fought them, in my mother’s youth. And beat them,” he added, scooping up the end of his spear. “Are you a scout?”</p>
<p>Bucky had never heard of anyone beating the Clan of the Hydra. “No. I-- I was a prisoner. I escaped.”</p>
<p>“Alone?” The man sounded impressed. “Where’s your clan?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted. “The Hydra defeated them, ran them off their lands. I was only a child.”</p>
<p>“Ah.” The man looked him over again, appraising. “Are you looking for them?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I’d recognize them if I found them,” Bucky said. “I just want... I hope to find a clan that will take me in and treat me kindly. I’m a flintknapper,” he added quickly, before the man could cast a scornful look at him. “I know I only have one arm, but I can be useful.”</p>
<p>The man looked down at the fish on the end of his spear. “The spirits have seen fit to grace me with two fish at once. Will you share with me?”</p>
<p>Bucky’s stomach rumbled, a sharp reminder that he’d had nothing but river water the day before -- and little enough for days before that. “Yes, thank you. I can -- I saw some berries, I think. I can gather some for us?” He was pretty sure he’d spotted a cluster of bushes as he had been struggling to make his way ashore.</p>
<p>“That sounds good,” the man agreed. “My name’s Tony.”</p>
<p>“Tony,” Bucky repeated. “I’ll be back soon.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Tony smiled at him, and Bucky wanted, more than anything, to see that smile again, even before it had faded.</p>
<p>He hesitated a few heartbeats longer, looking at Tony -- strong and fast and beautiful -- and then turned to walk alongside the river, looking for those bushes.</p>
<p>When he found them, there were several different kinds of berries, all jumbled together -- red and black and a deep, rich purple kind that he’d never seen before. He emptied out his cracked gourd -- it would be easy to refill, here by the river bank -- and began to load it with the berries.</p>
<p>Hungry as he was, their sweet smell was tempting, but the thought of Tony waiting for him was even moreso. He resisted the urge to strip the bushes bare and stuff them all into his own mouth, instead focusing on gathering enough for the two of them to share with the fish. It was slow going, with only one arm, but he was used to that. He wedged the gourd upright with a few rocks, and tossed the berries in, one after the other.</p>
<p>It was well past midday by the time he’d gathered enough, and his stomach was growling nearly continuously, insistent in its hunger.</p>
<p>Bucky slung the gourd’s strap over his shoulder and made his way back upstream. While he’d been gone, Tony had built a small fire on a wide, flat rock, then spiked the fish through the gills and balanced them over the flames to cook.</p>
<p>He glanced up as Bucky approached, sharp-eyed When he recognized Bucky, he smiled, the force of it making Bucky’s knees wobble.</p>
<p>Bucky drew closer, and found that Tony had cut a handful of broad leaves and laid them on the ground to keep the sand and dirt out of their meal. “Look,” Bucky said brightly, pouring berries from the gourd out onto the leaves. “There were so many kinds!” He grabbed up a handful, ready to toss them in his mouth -- and was stopped by Tony’s hand on his wrist, squeezing tight.</p>
<p>“Don’t!” Tony said urgently. He pulled Bucky’s hand open and pointed at the purple berries. “These are poison.” He looked down at the tumble of berries, the three kinds all mixed together, and bit his lip. “We use it, sometimes, to hunt, but you have to burn any meat it touches or it will make you sick, even a taste.”</p>
<p>Bucky stared at the rich color of the juice staining his palm in horror. He had tried to feed Tony <em>poison?</em> “I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”</p>
<p>“It’s all right, I can see it was a mistake,” Tony said kindly. “Or you wouldn’t have tried to eat it yourself. Look, we can separate them out and rinse the good ones off in the river to make sure there’s no killberry juice left on them. But you’ll have to get rid of the gourd. I don’t think it will wash away from that.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Bucky said. That was going to limit his travels severely, if he couldn’t carry water with him. He’d have to stay near the river.</p>
<p>But for now, he had to sort the berries and wash them, to make sure they were safe for Tony. He began picking the good berries out of the pile and putting them back into the gourd.</p>
<p>Tony crouched next to him and helped, nimbly and delicately plucking the berries free and dropping them into the gourd. “No killberries, where you’re from?” He looked upstream thoughtfully. “You must have come a very long way.”</p>
<p>Bucky nodded. “A night on foot, and then a day in the river.”</p>
<p>Tony looked at Bucky again, those dark eyes measuring. “You must be very strong.”</p>
<p>“Strong enough,” Bucky agreed, and then admitted, “Though I was almost not strong enough to make it back to shore.”</p>
<p>Soon, only killberries remained on the leaves. Tony carefully rolled the leaves around them and carried them away. Bucky took the gourd down to the edge of the river and began washing the berries in its current, one handful at a time.</p>
<p>Tony came back before he’d had time to do more than a couple of handfuls, and sat on the bank beside Bucky. He thrust his hands into the water and scrubbed off the killberry juice, then selected a blackberry from the cleaned pile. He examined it and then popped it into his mouth. “Good,” he approved. He picked out another berry, a red one, and held it in front of Bucky’s mouth. “Here.”</p>
<p>Bucky blinked, surprised, and timidly lipped the berry from Tony’s fingers. It was tart and sweet and perfect as its juice burst on his tongue. Tony helped wash off the berries, stopping every so often to eat a few, or feed some of them to Bucky.</p>
<p>When they’d finished, Tony picked up the stained, cracked gourd and flung it out into the river, then rinsed his hands again, checking to be sure that every drop of killberry juice had been washed away. “Come on,” he offered. “The fish are probably ready now.”</p>
<p>Tony pulled the fish off the fire and dropped them onto new leaves, and they used the stakes to pull the meat apart. The warm meat and sweet berries finally quieted the rumbling of Bucky’s hunger.</p>
<p>They were almost done eating when Tony sat back on his heels and looked at Bucky for a long moment.</p>
<p>Bucky finished chewing and mirrored Tony’s posture, looking back. “What?”</p>
<p>“I’m on my spirit journey,” Tony said. “The spirit-talker said I would... would meet my mate, before I came back to camp. That the spirits would guide me to them.”</p>
<p>“And the spirits led me here,” Bucky said cautiously, his heart suddenly pounding hard in his chest. “Where you could find me.”</p>
<p>“So they did,” Tony said. He looked at Bucky for another moment, measuring. “You said you wanted to find a clan to take you in. I’m not a hunter, but I’m a maker. My mother is Keeper of the Way. Our clan chief is strong and just. We would treat you well, if you... If you chose to come back with me. To be my mate.” He offered Bucky his hand, palm up, looking hopeful.</p>
<p>A thrill of hope, of <em>wanting</em> tightened Bucky’s gut. Tony was beautiful and kind and generous. Bucky didn’t know what Tony’s clan was like, but at least he would be coming to them fresh. Mated to one of the clan’s own, and with useful skills and knowledge to share, Bucky could imagine finding not merely shelter, but a <em>home</em>.</p>
<p>Deliberately, Bucky placed his hand in Tony’s and then slowly looked up into the eyes of his mate.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Smut-averse readers, that’s pretty much all that’s in the next chapter, so if you want to end it here, this is as good a place as any. :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. BBB K2 - Dark / SBB O2 - “Always”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Smut-averse readers, this is about 85% smuts. You have been warned.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony wouldn’t have gone so far as to say that he didn’t believe the spirits existed. There were, after all, too many things in the world with no other explanation. It was more that he was unconvinced about the spirits’ interest in human lives.</p>
<p>But here, now, looking into the beautiful eyes of his new mate, he had to wonder if Yinsen hadn’t, after all, known somehow that this would happen. For Bucky to have washed ashore here, at this precise spot, at exactly the right time for Tony to find him... There had to be spirits at work.</p>
<p>Briefly, he wondered if they would meet the mate his mother had chosen for him, on their way back to the camp. But it didn’t matter. Bucky was his <em>true</em> spirit-chosen mate, and no one would dare question it.</p>
<p>“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky said, his eyes round with wonder, “when you smile like that.”</p>
<p>Tony flushed a little. He’d been complimented before, but somehow this seemed different. Fresh. “You’re beautiful all the time,” he told his mate, which was true; the third thing he’d thought about Bucky -- after <em>who is that?</em> and <em>is he dangerous?</em> -- was <em>oh spirits, he’s gorgeous</em>.</p>
<p>Bucky looked down, twisting as if to hide his missing arm. “I’m not,” he protested. “So many scars, and--”</p>
<p>“You are,” Tony insisted. “Who doesn’t have scars? You are as lovely as the sky.” Bucky’s neck and ears were turning red, but he was smiling a little, behind the curtain of his hair. “Can I kiss you?”</p>
<p>Bucky looked back up at him, brows drawing together in confusion. “What is... kiss?”</p>
<p>Tony blinked back at him. “Hydra Clan doesn’t have kissing? No wonder they’re always so angry. Kiss is...” He cupped Bucky’s jaw, brushed his thumb over Bucky’s beard, a light caress, then leaned in to brush his lips across Bucky’s. Once, twice, sharing breath, letting the spirits within them meet and intertwine. The third time, he lingered, letting himself taste the remnants of fish and berries on Bucky’s lips.</p>
<p>Bucky let out a wounded moan, but before Tony could pull away, Bucky had wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist and pulled them together until they were kneeling on the ground, chest to chest and hip to hip. Bucky’s hand trembled as it explored the planes of Tony’s back, and his breath came in quick, desperate gasps as Tony kissed him again and again.</p>
<p>“Tony,” he sighed, eyes closed in utter bliss.</p>
<p>Tony nudged Bucky gently over until they’d fallen into the thick grass. He tugged and pulled until the hides and furs that covered them came away, and they were naked to each other’s gaze under the golden light of the late afternoon sun.</p>
<p>Tony stroked his hands over Bucky’s body, learning every dip and swell, rough hair and smooth skin. He could feel the bones under Bucky’s skin, too near the surface, and promised himself that Bucky would have a respectable layer of fat to protect him when winter next came around.</p>
<p>Bucky’s cock was lovely, thick and hard and flushed with wanting, and when Tony stroked his fingers up the shaft, Bucky let out a low, desperate groan. Tony rolled on top of Bucky, sliding their lengths together, shuddering at how good it felt.</p>
<p>He pushed his face into the curve of Bucky’s neck, breathing in the hot, musky scent of his mate. <em>Mate, my mate, mine</em>, Tony thought, the words circling each other like a spirit-chant, binding them together.</p>
<p>Bucky turned his head, seeking Tony’s mouth for another kiss. Tony laughed a little and gave it to him, nuzzling and teasing, nipping at Bucky’s lips.</p>
<p>Tony rolled his hips, pushing into the hollow of Bucky’s hip until his breath stuttered with need. “Bucky...”</p>
<p>“Tony, my mate, <em>mine--</em>” Bucky groaned, and that echo of Tony’s own thoughts pushed him over the edge, his hips stuttering as he reached his peak.</p>
<p>He dropped his head down onto Bucky’s shoulder, panting. “Always,” he gasped, a promise, a <em>vow</em>.</p>
<p>Bucky’s arm tightened, holding Tony fast, and Bucky’s breath caught and hitched as his cock slid through Tony’s spend where it was trapped between them. “S-spirits, Tony, oh, oh please--” Bucky broke off into a wordless keen and arched up, shuddering as he spilled.</p>
<p>They lay together in the grass for a long while as the evening deepened, dozing and touching and kissing. They got up to rinse themselves off in the river and ended up splashing and playing in the water like children.</p>
<p>Well, perhaps not <em>entirely</em> like children, Tony amended to himself as their kisses turned heated and they found themselves embracing again with hungry hands and eager cocks.</p>
<p>By the time they’d finished and climbed back up on shore, it was fully dark. They put their weapons near to hand and curled back into their little nest of grass, laying Tony’s fur under them and spreading the rest of their clothes over themselves for warmth. Tony wriggled around until he was lying on his back, his head nestled in the hollow of Bucky’s shoulder. “There,” he said, pointing up at the stars. “That group of stars, there, is where the clan takes its name from. It’s always above us, the cracks in the darkness that the Maker watches us through.”</p>
<p>“You’ll have to teach me,” Bucky said, a little sheepishly. “I don’t know anything about your clan.”</p>
<p>“<em>Our</em> clan,” Tony corrected, twining his fingers with Bucky’s. “I’ll teach you everything I know.”</p>
<p> </p>
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